Don't Be Afraid
by Mia lovely
Summary: This piece is about the power struggle within the Quinn-Tate relationship. Quinn always has to be in control, and Tate is emotionally drained by this. A Glee/America Horror Story crossover.
1. Chapter 1: Don't Be Afraid

**Don't Be Afraid**

**Disclaimer****: **I do not own Glee or America Horror Story, neither do I own the brilliant phrase Meat Eating Orchid, that brilliant loop of words was part of the lyrics to Nirvana's Heart Shape Box. The term just sounded so much like something Tate would use to describe Quinn.

**Pairing****:** Tate Langdon & Quinn Fabray

**Summary****:** Inspired by the beautiful Quinn & Tate – Hoping To Hold video by LadyMumblekins. This piece is about the power struggle within the Quinn-Tate relationship. Quinn always has to be in control, and Tate is emotionally drained by this. A Glee/America Horror Story crossover.

**Rated T for language and adult situations.**

**Don't Be Afraid**

_Your lies leaving loveless, please don't let me go._

_But I won't give up; I won't give up, not until I'm holding you._

_And I won't lie down; I won't lie down, not until I'm holding you._

The year is 1994.

"So, what do you think?" Quinn asked Tate, expecting his most sincere answer.

Tate turns his eyes away from the TV screen long enough to give Quinn a quick once over. And when he does, his eyes widen shocked by what he sees. Gone were the long blond waves, replaced by short choppy pink locks instead. Random patches of blonde peeked out from under the loud fuchsia. They were the last remnants of who she use to be. Then his eyes glide down to what she was wearing, and all he sees is black, so much black. Black tank dress, black lace leggings, black boots. Even her nails were painted black.

It's not that she doesn't look good with this new look. In fact, he actually finds this "New Quinn" sexy. But it was a lot to take in. All he's ever known of Quinn has been long blonde hair, cheerleading uniforms, and pretty sundresses. This drastic change was going to take him some time to get use to.

Tate's gaze follows the hem of her oh so short dress and fights to suppress the lustful groan building in the back of his throat, "It's…different," he told her.

Quinn smiles, and playfully pokes his cheek with her index finger, "Good, different is good." Turning back to examine herself in the mirror, "Now the out side finally matches the inside. "

Tate watched Quinn fiddle with the multiple necklaces around her neck, and pushed himself up to lie on his forearms on her bed. "I think you're beautiful, Quinn. Old you new you, it doesn't matter. You're still the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Quinn shook her head, looking down for a moment, "No I'm not, I'm disgusting," she refuted, "and shut up, don't say things like that to me."

Tate jumps off her bed and walks over to her, "Why because it's true?"

Quinn's olive-green eyes flicker up toward him, before quickly turning away. "No, just shut up." She replied dismissively.

There's a pregnant pause between the two of them and Quinn goes back to examining her new look in the mirror. Tate tries to think back to the hand full of times he tried to pay Quinn a compliment. There weren't very many. Not because he didn't think she was amazing, but because he knew she wouldn't respond well to them.

This was their routine. Every time he tried to get closer to her on a deeper level and in a less then psychical way she'd shoot him down. It was this tiresome dance that they did. He'd take one step toward her and she'd take two steps back. In the beginning it didn't phase him that Quinn seemed to only want him for his body and not much else. Really who was he to complain? A beautiful girl comes up to you asking for sex, you give her sex! That much was a given.

The problem was that it stopped being "just sex" a long time ago. At lease for him it did. He had tried to figure out how she might have felt about it. But it was hard to tell with Quinn. She is always so closed off and distant. Never letting anyone get past her armor. All he knows was that she had mentioned once before that she did not believe in love. And at the time when she had said that, it didn't really matter to him anyway. But now? He just refused to accept that as a fact.

"My mom is gonna freak when she sees me," Quinn laughs, while teasing her newly pink locks. "You know what, I think I like it. It's a bit Joan Jett meets Cyndi Lauper meets 80's Madonna, only pink. And the nose ring-"

Tate shakes his head at her little game, here we go again, "Damn it Quinn, when you gonna stop doing this?" He snaps.

Quinn's eyebrow arched as she slowly turned to face him, "Doing what?" she asked oh so innocently. Tate might have believed her, had he not already known that Quinn was a deceitful and manipulative meat eating orchid. But not this time. No, he wasn't going to let her get off with her doe-eyed routine this time. "What are you talking about?" she watches him with mild interest.

Tate walked up to her, "You're deflecting," he stated. Keeping his eyes on her and trying to catch her stubborn gaze, he continued, "Every time I try to get close to you, you shut me out. Fuck, it's like you want me to give up on you or something!"

Quinn rolled her eyes in that trademark, bitch, I'm Quinn Fabray kind of way. "Tate, you're being dramatic."

"No, I'm not!" he argued. Catching Quinn's glaring eyes for at least a millisecond before she tore them away, "I mean, seriously, what the fuck Quinn! I'm here, I'm with you, and I'm trying. But it's like you like being alone and miserable."

"Maybe I do," Quinn retorted.

Tate shook his head, "I don't believe that."

"I don't care what you believe!" The fierce girl huffed. "And you know what? It's time for you to leave now, go!" She shoves at his chest and pushes him toward the door.

Tate's jaw clenches tight and his nostrils flared in frustration. Goddamn it, Quinn! Doesn't she get it? He _loves_ her; he's _in love_ with her. She was the most interesting thing to ever walk the face of this dreary planet. He loved everything about her. Her bizarre outlook of the world, the way her ferocious presence could literally destroy him every time she walked into a room. He loved the dark and twisted way her mind works, and how he could never predict what psychotic genius she'd orchestrate next.

He'd be the first to admit, their relationship was not the most stable, or even healthy for that matter. He knows he's stupid. It was foolish of him to fall in love with the one person who was even more fucked up then he was. But then again, he is a self-admitted masochist, so really none of this should be shocking to him.

Tate shakes his head; he sometimes likes to think of Quinn as his own personal angel of death. Guiding him and pulling at his puppet strings to manipulate her desired outcome. And she's succeeded, because he so damn in love with her, that he's willing to kill for her. He already has, their first victim was Joey Bruner, the filthy pig who violated her.

Quinn shoves at him again, "I said go!" she commanded. Waking him out of his reflective state. "God, you're so frustrating! Why'd you have to go and ruin everything? I specifically said that this was a _**no**_ _**strings attached**_ thing! If you don't like the way I operate, then you should leave. No one's forcing you to stay."

Tate looked at Quinn sadly; because there was no way that he could ever leave her. Even _if_ he wanted to. He was far too tangled up in her merciless web of intrigue to ever be free of her. "No Quinn, You need to hear this." He sighed gently.

Quinn's spiteful olive-green eye flashed ferociously, "like hell I do!" she yelled aggressively. Getting up in his face and glaring flaming daggers at his head, she continues on her war path, "You think I give a shit about you? I don't," she stabs him with her spade tongue. "I don't give a shit about anybody or anything in this miserable world! You're just some loser I _**fuck**_ on occasion. I don't care about you."

Tate stood his ground against Quinn's vicious wrath. Even though he felt as if she had just finished dumping a pool of acid over his heart. He stared into her cold gaze and pushed forward, "I'm not going anywhere, Quinn. You can push and scream all you want, but I'm not leaving. Do you want to know why?"

Quinn ripped her eyes away from his and shook her head violently. "No! Shut up! Shut up! Why can't you just shut up!" she shrieked, desperately trying to pull away from him.

Tate ignores the tears he could see welling up in Quinn's black-rimmed eyes and reaches out for her hand, pressing it to his chest over his heart."Because I love you, Quinn."

Watching Quinn's face, Tate has no idea what to make of the eerie look in her eyes. It was a new look he has never seen from her before, so he decides to press on, "I'm in love with you. You can kick and scream and beat me until your knuckles are raw. But that still wont change the fact that I love you." he confesses so sincerely.

Quinn bows her head, and Tate can see the jagged black tracks her tears are making on her perfect face. "You can't love me, no one can, I'm unlovable." She whispers so brokenly.

Her response takes Tate by surprise. First, because he thinks this is the first time he's ever seen Quinn cry. He has seen her in silent moments of reflection, or even the tiny glimmer of vulnerability that surfaced the night she climbed in through his window seeking a safe haven away from her father. But full on tears? Never.

The second is that he finally realizes just how broken Quinn Fabray truly is. Her pain, her fears, her hate ran deep. Possibly deeper then his own. She was so far gone in her own personal self-loathing hell that she blinded herself to the truth. The truth was that she was actually the only good thing left in this lackluster world.

Realizing that she might not be ready to say those three words back to him, Tate sighs. All the tension finally leaves his body. It's alright if she can't say them back. He doesn't need her to, at least not yet. Today, he just needed her to listen to them, _really_ listen to them. He didn't want there to be any doubts about his feelings for her. She is his _perfect_ angel of death, whether she wanted to accept it or not.

Quinn yanks her hand from Tate's grasp and turns away from him, discretely wiping at the fallen tears on her face. Clearing her throat, "Okay, um…that's enough of that," she rasped. Turning back to him, her face now clear of any sign of her minor breakdown. "How about we go get something to eat? I'm in the mood for sushi."

Tate rolls his eyes, because of course she'd take his confession and sweep it under the rug. That was classic Quinn. But at least now she knew. She was the Nancy to his Sid, and yes that meant that they were probably doomed from the start. However none of that matters to him. He'd gladly ride this psychotic rollercoaster of doom if it meant that he got to be next to Quinn when they inevitably crash and burn.

What can he say, he's a masochist, and he likes it rough.

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><p>AN: Please review telling me what you guys thought. I know it's not that popular of a ship. But I just really like the idea of Tate and Quinn. I feel like if Quinn were on American Horror Story she'd have a really strong connection with Tate and vice versa. Quinn is kind of known for being unstable, and though normal people might frown at that, Tate would find it appealing. And Tate and Quinn as a couple would be dynamic and unpredictable. They'd represent the wild, crazy, and dangerous side of love.<p>

I love reviews; they make me want to keep writing. Also who knows if you really like this one-shot maybe I might consider turning it into a multi chap. I've got a few ideas rolling around in my head.


	2. Chapter 2:  The Noose

**The Noose**

**Disclaimer****: **I do not own Glee or American Horror Story. The characters Quinn Fabray and Tate Langdon belong to their respective owners.

**Pairing****:** Tate Langdon & Quinn Fabray

**Summary****:** Because after writing Don't Be Afraid, Quinn wouldn't stop nagging me for her side of the story. There is a reason why she acts like such a bitch toward Tate. We know how Tate feels about Quinn and their pseudo liaison. Now here's how Quinn feels about it.

**Rated T for language and strong adult situations**

**The Noose**

_So glad to see you well_

_Overcome and completely silent now_

_With heaven's help_

_You cast your demons out_

_And not to pull you halo down_

_Around your neck and tug you off your cloud_

_But I'm more then just a little curious_

_Of how you're planning to go about _

_Making your amends_

_To the dead_

Her reason for being a bitch.

Green, black-rimmed eyes narrowed at the single black orchid, as if maybe, if she stared at it hard enough the flower would somehow get up and explain its reason for suddenly appearing in her locker. Intrigued, Quinn brushed a hand through the bang of her newly pink hair and took the darkly beautiful flower in her hand.

Tate walked down the adjacent hall and stops dead in his tracks. There standing in where he would normally find a prettily dressed blonde psychopath stood this pink punk vixen. It took him a while before he finally remembers that that punk vixen was in fact Quinn as her newly reinvented version of herself.

He take a moment to survey the way her dark-gray cropped top and long, bohemian looking plum and white tie-dye skirt displayed the small cluster of bold yet dainty stars tattooed along her back. God, he was really taking a liking to this new edgier Quinn. The punk look really suited her. But then again, anything would. The former blonde was beautiful, and could most likely make even a brown paper bag seem like a work of art.

Walking over to her with a lopsided grin firmly planted on his face and leaning up against the locker next to hers, he chuckled at the confused look on her face. "It's called a flower," he whispered into her ear.

Quinn jumps at Tate's sudden approach. She hadn't expected him to be there. "Did you buy this for me?" She asked while turning her head to face him.

Tate answers all nonchalantly, "Well, more like stole, but yeah. It just sort of reminded me of you," he shrugs.

Quinn looked down at the black orchid in her hand. It was beautiful and exotic and heart-wrenchingly lovely. She looks up at Tate and could tell that he really wanted to kiss her. But he won't. Because he knows how uncomfortable all this intimacy usually makes her, and going in for a kiss after surprising her with such a romantic gesture just might be too much for her to handle.

Quinn places the orchid back in her locker and spared Tate an awkward tight-lipped smile. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He was sweet and passionate, and it was obvious that he cared about her. But she feels like he may want something from her that she herself isn't sure she can give. Not because she doesn't want to, but because she honestly doesn't know how.

With everything that she's gone through, and everything that has been done to her, she isn't sure if being in a relationship is something that she could actually do anymore. She just now started to reclaim herself, and Tate played a big part in helping her with that. Their friendship, because that's what this was, a _friendship_, meant everything to her. She didn't want him to think that she didn't appreciate him, because she did.

Tate was her protector, her partner in crime, her dark knight. She trusted him; with all of her secrets, with her thoughts, and even at times her body. She trusted him with everything except her heart. The former blonde knew from experience what foolishly loving someone can do to a person, and that was a place she swore to never revisit.

Besides, she wasn't even sure if she could ever become the girl she knew Tate needed. It's true that she and Tate shared a profound connection. However, she isn't sure if that connection would ever be enough to truly satisfy her. Especially not after doing what she did to Bruner. That experience, that act, it changed her.

Thinking back to that final moment when she sunk her blade into Joey Bruner's chest and watched the light go out of his eyes, she knew, she knew that that would not be the last time she'd take a life. Killing Bruner had awakened something in her, something dark and primal.

It had not been her intention to kill him that night. She honestly did only have plans in putting a good scare in him. But then he started opening his mouth spewing venom and lies. Making her feel worthless and helpless like he always did when they were together. And then he mentioned Beth. Her perfect little girl who'd she never get to know and never get to watch grow up. The way Joey pleaded with her to let him go. Using their daughter as a bargaining chip made her sick; as if he gave a crap about Beth when she was pregnant with her, as if Beth was a product of their "love" and not his sexual abuse.

Quinn honestly did not want to kill him, but when she saw him there, all helpless and pathetic. Like she imagined she must have looked when he use to exercise his _dominance_ over her. Something just…snapped.

She and Tate once talked about what it'd be like to kill someone. And he had expressed that if he ever were to take a life it would be because he wanted to rescue his victims, help take them someplace clean and good. But over a short period of time she realized that that was not her reason for her murderous need. And a part of her wished it was. Part of her wishes she could say she'd do it all for them.

Except really; she'd do it for herself. To satisfy her gluttonous need, that constant itch that clawed its way inside of her. Burrowing its self so deep within her being that she could no longer tell which parts of her where light and which parts of her were dark. She saw everything in shades of gray now. And it had all started the night she and Tate put an end to Joey Bruner.

Shaking her head clear of all its mental babble, "I'm going to disappoint you. You know that, right?" Quinn muttered under her breath.

"What?" Tate chuckled, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Quinn swiftly closes her locker and begins strolling away towards the cafeteria. It was still early and she wanted to see if they still had any of those fruit cups she liked so much.

Tate follows her stride, "So what, you're just going to ignoring me now?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and just continued walking. When was he ever going to get the hint? They were not good for each other. Together they were toxic. And she knows for a fact that she had a tendency of causing him more misery then she does actual happiness. Why he was even still interested in her was beyond her understanding.

Turning sharply to face the shaggy haired boy, Quinn looked him dead in the eye. "Look, I know you think you and I are exactly alike. But that's not true. I don't think you realize how messed up I really am."

Tate took a step closer to the fierce girl, and looked around to see if there was anybody within hearing distance.

There weren't.

"Is that about Bruner?" he whispered curiously. "Because if it is. Then I want to remind you that I was right there with you. You are no guiltier then I am. "

Quinn shook her head, he still wasn't getting it. "This isn't about guilt! I don't feel guilty, Tate," she looked around to see if anyone was watching them. When she was sure that nobody was, she continued. "I don't regret what I did. He ruined my life, he ruined me! He doesn't deserve any sympathy. The problem is… " she pursed her lips and looked away in shame.

Tate dipped his head to look her in the eyes. She looked so conflict and lost, like she was having some sort of internal war with herself. "What? Quinn, what's the problem?"

Quinn racked a hand through her choppy pink locks and sighed. She wasn't sure if this was something she was ready to say out loud. Damn, there was something seriously morally wrong with her. If she had still believed in a god and a heaven then she would most definitely be sent to hell. If she were to let Tate see the monster she had become, would he still accept her?

She knows that she's always trying to distance herself from Tate. Always trying to push him away, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew that if Tate were to actually abandon her then she'd most likely completely loose her shit. Quinn had noticed the obsessive codependency they had with each other long before Tate confessed to being in love with her.

Tate was the only person in this world who truly saw her. He sees her pain, he sees anger, and he never judges for it. She liked that about him. But was she really ready to open up to him about this? Was she really ready to tell him of how she dreams were now filled with blood and guts? How she took pleasure in the feeling of Joey Bruner's blood trickling down her finger tips. Could Tate really learn this about her and still want to be around her afterwards?

Tate cupped the side of Quinn's face, "Hey, you still in there?"

Glassy green eyes looked up at Tate, as if in a daze. "I liked it Tate."

Frowning his brows Tate looked down at Quinn, "Liked what?" he thinks me might know what she was referring to. But just to make sure he asked anyway.

Looking him dead in the eyes, green meeting dark coffee-brown, almost black eyes. "You _know_ what I'm talking about. I liked it too much…I-It scares me. Because I think I might do it again."

Quinn's eyes looked so haunted. Tate had had his suspicions about what really occurred that night. The way she stood over Bruner's prone body. Eyes dead focused, her steps poised and predatory. There was no way she didn't like what she was doing.

Tate didn't know how he felt about this new situation. Maybe he never should have helped her get to Joey. He knew that in doing so he'd only be digging himself into a much deeper hole, then the one he was already in. Yet still he helped her, because he knew that with out him she wouldn't be able to overpower Bruner. And he just couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to her.

The way things had ended that night at the fair was unexpected. But he'd be lying if he said that he didn't find the image of Quinn killing a man arousing. He knows it sick and wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Quinn was still perfect to him, even more so after Joey's death. She was his perfect angel of death. There would be no changing that.

Not knowing what else to do. Tate hugged Quinn close to his chest, warping his arms tightly around her slender body, and shielding her away from all the poisoned devils around them. He didn't know what her newfound blood lust meant. But what ever it was, it didn't scare him. And maybe the reason for that was because deep down inside, he knew that he liked it too.

Quinn desperately wrapped her arms around Tate's torso and fisted the fabric of his worn flannel shirt. She hoped that he knew what he was doing. Caring for a monster like her was not going to be easy. But damn, was she so happy that he was so willing to try. Because even though she wasn't absolutely sure of what her feelings him meant. She was pretty damn convinced that she could not function with out him.

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><p>AN: Sorry for any grammar mistakes I've made. Anyway please don't forget to leave a review.<p> 


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